


some secrets were meant to be told

by ericdire (aarobron)



Series: two of a kind beats all hands tonight [5]
Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:00:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29402334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aarobron/pseuds/ericdire
Summary: It’s been a long day, in all honesty. Virgil informs him that it’s barely midday, but the morning’s hours have still stretched into long, unforgiving sessions of torture. When the sun was starting to rise, he thought he’d lost everything that had ever mattered to him. Now, though, he’s got everything he’s ever wanted within touching distance.
Relationships: Virgil van Dijk/Jordan Henderson
Series: two of a kind beats all hands tonight [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1794232
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	some secrets were meant to be told

**Author's Note:**

> what happens straight after the end of the main fic.
> 
> feedback and kudos appreciated xx

Jordan’s shivering the whole way back, but he’s trying to hide it. 

It’s been a long day, in all honesty. Virgil informs him that it’s barely midday, but the morning’s hours have still stretched into long, unforgiving sessions of torture. When the sun was starting to rise, he thought he’d lost everything that had ever mattered to him. Now, though, he’s got everything he’s ever wanted within touching distance.

He’s not quite sure how to process that.

When they get closer to the flat, the shivers get harder to hide. He’s just –– so, _so_ cold. His clothes are still soaking and the sun is hidden firmly behind the clouds now, and there’s a bitter wind rolling in from the coast. The streets around here are thin and rickety, acting as a tunnel when the wind picks up. Jordan shudders violently, and Virgil puts an arm around his shoulders.

“You’ll get wet,” Jordan grumbles, trying to shove Virgil away. The younger man doesn’t move, though. Instead, he pulls Jordan in closer to his side, pressing a kiss to his damp hair.

Nothing has changed since yesterday, last week, last month, last year. Nothing has changed, except –– Jordan hesitates, and then puts his hand on Virgil’s stomach. Because he’s allowed to, now. Because it’s not crossing an invisible line.

“I don’t care,” Virgil says, squeezing his arm tight around Jordan’s shoulders. He doesn’t blink when Jordan’s fingers tangle in the material of his t-shirt. “We’re nearly home, anyway.”

Home.

To Jordan’s flat.

Because Virgil sees it as home, too.

“Come on,” Virgil says, as soon as they’re inside and the door is locked firmly behind them. Nobody can ruin this for either of them, now. It’s just them, in their little bubble. “You must be freezing, I’ll run you a bath.”

Virgil does as he promised and goes through to the bathroom, and the sound of running water fills up the entire flat. Jordan stands in the kitchen and feels lost. He doesn’t know how to navigate this brand new environment.

“Hey,” Virgil says softly, coming back through and catching Jordan standing there. He looks up, and sees nothing but Virgil’s flushed cheeks, his excited eyes. His chest squeezes tight and he thinks, _godiloveyou_. It’s as easy as breathing. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, I just –” Jordan starts, and then stops. It’s a lie, kind of. There’s not _really_ anything up, but… “Does this feel weird? Like, us? I don’t –– I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. What I’m allowed to do.”

“It’s only weird if we make it weird,” Virgil says, pulling a face. He relents, though, when Jordan doesn’t back down, and sighs, reaching out to take the older man’s hand. “Jordan, it’s… it’s us, isn’t it? This is me and you. What’s changed, really? The only thing that’s changed, for me, is that now I’m allowed to kiss you whenever I want to. You’re still my best friend. You’re still the person I trust most in this world. You’re still the one person that I want to make proud, the thing that gets me through each day. That hasn’t changed. The only thing that’s changed is that I can tell you I love you.”

Jordan stays quiet for a few long minutes. Virgil’s face looks hopeful, but in a worried way.

“I love you too,” Jordan says eventually, and the blinding grin that spreads across Virgil’s face is nothing but relieved. He takes a step forward, both hands coming up to cup Jordan’s cheeks, and kisses him.

He knows he’s never going to get sick of this.

“Let’s get you warmed up,” Virgil whispers, pulling away only far enough to kiss Jordan’s forehead. He tangles their fingers together and drags him into the bathroom, reaching over to turn the tap of and testing the temperature of the water. He seems satisfied enough, and turns round to face Jordan again.

The ghost of Virgil’s voice is echoing in his head from last night, and he blushes bright red. Virgil notices, and smirks. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Jordan mutters, because Virgil was right. This is still them and it always will be. Best friends or something more – it’s all the same, really.

He shakes his head and strips his clothes off, more than aware of Virgil’s gaze trailing over his body. Instead of feeling self-conscious, he’s proud.

“You’re beautiful,” Virgil whispers, sounding awed. His hand comes up to rest on Jordan’s hip and he steals a kiss, one that Jordan can feel right to the soles of his feet. He sighs, and tries to follow Virgil’s mouth when he pulls away. “Get in the bath. You’ll freeze to death.” 

“Yes, sir,” Jordan grumbles. He means it to come out in a bad way, but Virgil tenses, breath quickening and fingers tightening on Jordan’s skin. The older man smirks, and files that one away for later.

The bath is exactly what he needed, and he sinks back into the water, eyes closing. When he opens them again, Virgil is sitting on the floor, back pressed against the wall. He smiles, eyes glittering, and winks. 

Jordan feels like he could burst.

“Stella knows,” Virgil says quietly, looking up from underneath his eyelashes at Jordan. His cheeks are slightly pink and Jordan’s heart starts beating hard and fast against his ribcage. “About us. She knows.”

“Oh,” Jordan breathes, a ghost of the word. He doesn’t know what to say to that. He doesn’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing.

Probably the latter, he’d imagine. He can’t say he’d be too pleased if the man he was supposed to be marrying ended up in love with his best friend.

“It’s not ––” Virgil says, then sighs. He rubs a hand across his forehead. “She’s okay with it. As okay with it as she can be right now. She said she’s happy for us. She said she knew it was going to happen, that everyone knew we were meant to be together.”

Jordan blinks owlishly, Gini’s words echoing his mind.

Well. Maybe he was the only person that didn’t see it.

“I still feel bad,” Jordan says. It’s a stupid thing to say, but it’s the only thing that comes to mind. “I mean –– I was supposed to be planning her wedding, and I stole the groom.”

“You didn’t steal me,” Virgil says, pulling his knees up to his chest. “The way I feel about you is… Nobody comes close. Nobody has ever come close. And yeah, it’s really fucking shitty of me that I didn’t even love my almost wife as much as I love you, but god… Jordan, we are _allowed_ to have this. We’re allowed to enjoy it and we deserve it, we deserve to be happy. Together, you and me, let’s just put ourselves first for once. I wanna see where this goes, I want to know what it’s like to wake up with you and feel nothing but happiness. Don’t you?”

Jordan smiles, dragging his fingertips over the surface of the water.

“Yeah,” he whispers, because he’s never wanted anything more.

.

“Your fingers are going to be all wrinkly,” Virgil says, pulling a face. It’s true, because he’s been in the bath for ages (the water is a bit chilly, actually), but it’s been nice just to _talk_. Completely, totally unadulterated. There’s nothing left between them to hide. “Like prunes.”

“Fuck off,” Jordan snaps, but it’s gentle. He rolls his eyes. “Pass me a towel?” 

Virgil unfolds his long legs and gets to his feet. “You’ll have to come get it,” he says, teasing tone dripping off every word. He holds a towel out by the corners, smirk lighting his face up beautifully.

Jordan blushes but does as he’s told, getting to his feet and stepping out of the bath. It’s embarrassing, really, being absolutely dripping wet and completely defenseless, but Virgil doesn’t seem to mind – he’s looking at Jordan like he’s the most beautiful thing in the world.

He wraps the towel around Jordan’s shoulders and kisses him, one big hand spread across his cheek while the other holds the ends of the towel together. It’s nice, being able to do this, comparing it to his dreams (it’s so, so much better), and to not have to worry about it. He stumbles forward, impossibly closer, but Virgil catches him because that’s what he does now. 

It feels like hours when they’re standing there. Jordan’s damp skin is cold but Virgil’s mouth is warming him up just nicely and he sighs into the kiss, bumping his nose against the younger man’s as he pulls away. He smiles, does Virgil, like the cat that’s got the cream, and steals another kiss. 

“Let’s get you dry,” he says, dragging the towel from around Jordan’s shoulders and holding it in both hands. His smile turns sweeter and he crouches, taking his time to rub Jordan’s feet and ankles dry.

“What are you doing?” Jordan whispers, voice wavering. He’s a little bit in shock.

“I’m taking care of you, love,” Virgil says. He sounds a little bemused, like it should be obvious, but –– it’s not. Not to Jordan.

He blinks, and Virgil presses a kiss to the muscle just above his knee.

He’s so, so gentle. He skims the towel so gently over Jordan’s skin that it makes a lump rise in his throat, careful and respectful around his dick like he’s not sure if he’s allowed. Jordan’s not quite sure how to tell him that he’s his completely, now. He can do what he wants.

Virgil already knows, though. Jordan cups a hand round the back of his head and Virgil looks up with wide, wet eyes. That says everything that their mouths aren’t.

“Come on,” Virgil whispers, and that’s all Jordan needs to be following him like a lost little puppy into the bedroom. He gets a pair of clean boxers out and nothing else, and raises his eyebrows when Jordan looks at him questioningly.

So it’s like that, then. Jordan definitely isn’t complaining.

“You smell nice,” Virgil murmurs, when they’re tucked up in bed and he’s got his nose tucked into the hollow of Jordan’s throat. His hand is resting low on Jordan’s stomach, sweeping back and forth over the warm skin there. It’s making his blood rush south, but like – in a contented way. He’s never felt like this before.

“Your shower gel,” Jordan says. _Again_ , his mind adds.

Virgil hums.

“I’ll have to get some more of that if you’re going to keep using it,” he says. It sounds innocent, but the words are incredibly loaded. Jordan lets out a long, deep breath, and grins up at the ceiling.

He feels like he’s won the lottery, but better.

“So when did you –– how did you realise?” Jordan asks awkwardly. “That you – you know.”

“That I love you?” Virgil asks, moving his head back to rest on the same pillow as Jordan. Jordan nods, cheeks red, and Virgil smiles. “My birthday. You called me your knight in shining armour and I told you that I can’t see my future without you in it. I just –– looked at you. I looked at you and I realised how true it was, and I didn’t just mean as the footnote best friend. I could imagine you, holding my hand as we walked down the street. Curling up next to me in bed and telling me you loved me. Summer holidays somewhere hot, where I get to kiss you on the beach and not care about it. I just saw… forever. With you, and nobody else, and realised that that’s all I’ve ever really wanted.” 

Jordan swallows the lump in his throat and squeezes his eyes shut. Finally hearing it makes him feel nothing like he thought it would.

“It’s just –” Jordan starts, then cuts himself off and sighs, “– I’ve spent our entire friendship falling deeper and deeper in love with you, hiding it every time you got close, and now I just don’t know how to turn that off. How do I stop myself pretending I’m not in love with you? Because I want to. I want you to know that I love you, I want to show it, I want to be _proud of it_ , but I can’t do it. It scares me.”

“I don’t want you to be scared of me,” Virgil whispers, tangling his fingers with Jordan’s. His thumb runs over each bump of knuckle gently. “Of us. That shouldn’t be what this is.” 

“I’m not scared of you,” Jordan says quickly. He doesn’t want Virgil to get the wrong idea. “I’m scared that this isn’t real.”

Virgil’s mouth curves up into a tiny, sweet smile.

“This is very, very real,” he promises. His free hand comes up to curve around Jordan’s cheek, leaning in for a chaste kiss. “It’s us, isn’t it? It’s still us, and it always has been. You’re still my best friend. You’re still the only person in the world that I want to spend every second of the day with. You’re still the most amazing, most _incredible_ thing that’s ever happened to me. That hasn’t changed, okay? It’s just that now I want to kiss you and tell you I love you. You don’t need to be scared of that. You just need to embrace the change, because sometimes it’s a good thing.”

“Promise?” Jordan whispers, breathless and terrified. He’s never put this much trust in anyone before.

“Promise,” Virgil confirms, slight smile lighting up his entire face.

Jordan believes him entirely.

.

It’s nice, waking up next to Virgil. Jordan wishes that he’d stuck around to do it this morning, too, but there’s no point in regrets.

“Hi,” Virgil whispers, brushing the backs of his fingers over Jordan’s cheek gently. He hadn’t realised that Virgil was awake. “Love waking up next to you.”

“How long have you been awake?” Jordan asks, frowning playfully.

“Long enough,” Virgil smiles. His thumb traces over Jordan’s bottom lip and then he kisses him, slow and deep. It makes Jordan feel like he’s on fire. 

“Have you just been watching me sleep?” Jordan asks. Virgil nods, shameless, and he pulls a face. “Creep.”

He doesn’t mean a word of it. Knowing Virgil has been studying his face when he’s at his most peaceful, most vulnerable–– it makes his chest hurt deeply. Is this what it’s really like to feel loved? He wouldn’t know from any of his past experiences.

“You’re beautiful when you sleep,” Virgil says, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Even if you do snore.”

“I do not!” Jordan says. His cheeks are bright red, hot to touch, and he wants to hide under the duvet in embarrassment. He’s not quite sure why – he’s shared a bed with Virgil a million times before, but this just feels _different_.

“You do,” Virgil says. “Like ––”

And then he breaks his sentence to make a noise that can only be described as a dying pig.

Jordan balks, offended, and throws a gentle fist at Virgil’s chest. The younger man stops, finally, and breaks out laughing. Jordan can’t help but smile, hiding it in the warmth of Virgil's shoulder.

“You don’t snore,” Virgil says, placing a placating hand on Jordan’s back. The feel of his calluses is incredible against his bare skin and he shivers. “I just wanted to see you blush.”

“You’re so mean,” Jordan mumbles, pouting. “Remind me why I’m even here?”

“Because,” Virgil says, drawing the syllables out until they’re dripping sweetly off his tongue. He rolls over so he can settle in the gap between Jordan’s thighs, pinning him against the mattress. It steals his breath away. “I’m irresistible. And you’re completely, entirely head over heels in love with me.”

Jordan can’t deny it. 

“Idiot,” he mutters instead.

“Good job I’m head over heels for you too, isn’t it?” Virgil says. His words are gentle but the way he kisses Jordan is anything but, pressing his hips against the older man’s roughly. The hard outline of his dick is already pressing against Jordan’s thigh, tantalizing and making his mouth water.

He never thought he’d get to experience this again, but he’s so, so glad he does.

“Needy,” Jordan mutters, like he’s not just as hard. Virgil laughs breathlessly and kisses him again, grinding his hips slowly as his mouth slides down his neck.

He nips at the skin there, and Jordan grins up at the ceiling.

Life is never going to get any better than this.

.

Jordan slides his hand across the warm, bare skin at the base of Virgil’s back as he wanders past. He flicks the kettle on, and smiles when Virgil looks across to him.

“What you making?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. Neither of them are wearing very much and he’s not shy about it (anymore… it did take ten minutes to get used to it), and he’s actually grateful when Virgil’s gaze drags hot over his body. He clears his throat, and watches Virgil snap back to reality, a lopsided smile taking over his face.

“Nothing special,” Virgil says, although Jordan thinks everything he cooks is special. He’s talented. “Just ragu. Are you hungry?”

“Very,” Jordan admits. That’s what sex does to him, and he tells Virgil as much.

It makes Virgil smirk. He steps away from the stove and towards Jordan, placing one large, warm palm on his stomach. He rubs, just slightly, then leans in for a kiss, deep and forceful and everything that it shouldn’t be standing in Jordan’s rickety old kitchen. 

It feels right, though.

“Good job you’ve got me to keep you fed then, isn’t it?” Virgil says, when he pulls away. His nose brushes against Jordan’s once, twice, enough that Jordan goes cross-eyed when he tries to focus on his face. Virgil laughs breathlessly and kisses him again. It’s softer this time: Virgil contains multitudes.

And Jordan can’t wait to discover all of them.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @ [georginiwijnaldum](https://georginiwijnaldum.tumblr.com/) xo


End file.
